


The Ship Has Sailed

by WizkidCastiel



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance, slightly OOC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-20
Updated: 2014-08-03
Packaged: 2017-12-24 02:02:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 12,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/933857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WizkidCastiel/pseuds/WizkidCastiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal realizes that Abigail may be something so much more...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Revelation

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing one of these, so please try and excuse any mistakes. I've been sailing the Hannigail ship for a few days now and I just couldn't resist. I also have no idea how long this thing will be...

Dr. Lecter is in the shower. It is rare to catch a glimpse of him in this state. After all, it isn't like there is ever anybody else but himself in his home.  
Getting out of the shower and drying himself meticulously, Dr. Lecter chooses a set of satin pajamas. He then proceeds to go to bed.  
Lying down and staring at the ceiling for a few seconds, his mind begins wandering. He has been alone for a very long time now. And as he turns his head to look at the space next to him, he smirks. He pities those poor sorrowful souls that have to endure somebody else's company every night. Dr. Lecter rather enjoys the alone and the dark. And he can't ever imagine sharing it with someone else.  
Turning his head back to the ceiling now, he closes his eyes and drifts away into a dreamless sleep.

Morning comes, just as it does everyday and Dr. Lecter is awake. His body is like a living clock and he never sleeps past six. This morning however, is different. He turns his head to look at his bedside alarm and is shocked to see it was 6:45. His facial expression gives nothing away of course, but on the inside he is frowning.  
Getting up and shaking away any signs of sleep, he begins to get ready for his day. He doesn't hurry just because of the time either. Rushing isn't the answer for waking up late.  
He chooses a deep purple suit with a lavender shirt and white tie. He ties his jet black dress shoes carefully and then goes to comb his hair. Slicking it back and to the side as he has always done all these years. Looking himself over for a few seconds, he is satisfied. Looking at the clock however, he sees that there is simply no time for a full breakfast. Eating a quick muffin will have to do for now.  
Driving to his office, Dr. Lecter is preparing himself for another day of listening to patients moan about their everyday lives. He can't complain too much however. Sometimes, he gets cases that are rather intriguing. Those people he will turn loose on the world, just for his own pleasure and amusement.  
Looking at his books, he sees that his first appointment is not for another hour. Strange, he was sure he was supposed to...

He catches a scent then. Fresh dirt and yes, the all too familiar smell of a hospital. He turns around. Abigail is up near his books. Hands on the rail, that scared doe caught in the headlights look on her face.  
"Hello, Abigail. I wasn't expecting you this morning." He speaks carefully to her as he always does to ensure that he is control of the situation.  
"I'm sorry about that." She says. "I asked Dr. Bloom to bring me because..." She pauses. A look of small fright on her face now.  
"Because of what, Abigail?" He sighs inwardly, this girl...  
"Because..." A sharp intake of breath from her.  
"Abigail, if you cannot tell me, I'm afraid I'll have to take you back."  
"NO!" She spurts out. "I told Dr. Bloom to bring me here because something happened at the hospital."  
"What has happened at the hospital? Did you have a bad dream? A hallucination?" He rattles off and she shakes her head.  
"I... I was walking the grounds and... a boy... maybe my age, I can't remember. He walked up to me and..." She trails off then.  
"Pray tell, Abigail. What did this boy do?"  
"That's just the thing. I can't remember. All I remember is his hand on my arm and then me being in my room sitting on my bed. I told Dr. Bloom and she told me maybe you could help. She said that you were probably better at this sort of thing and so I told her to bring me here."  
"I see. Well first things first, you probably better come down and sit. Things will work better if I don't have to converse with you while looking up the whole time." Abigail nods slowly and begins the descent down the ladder. Being the perfect gentleman that he is, he assists her. Putting his hand on her shoulder and guiding her down. And for a split second as he places his hand, there is an electric spark. He tilts his head slightly, questioning it in his mind, but dismisses it just as quick.  
"So, Abigail, before all of this happened, how were things at the hospital?" He says as they both take a seat in his chairs.  
"Oh, you know, about as good as things can get in a mental hospital. Crappy food, crappy sleep, an even crappier environment. It doesn't help that I can't make any friends because I don't know who's who."  
"Abigail, the world is what we make it. Yes, a hospital can be a very... crappy place as you put it, but that's only because you're seeing it that way. If you want a good and healthy environment, then you have to live it. Interact, think about the good things, feel good about yourself."  
"But how Dr. Lecter? It seems like every time I try, something comes back and stops me."  
"The memories of your father?" There are small tears forming in her eyes now. She squirms a bit and nods. "Is that what is keeping you from remembering what happened at the hospital?"  
"I don't know... maybe?" There are tears now running down her cheeks slowly. He supposes this is the time he should provide some kind of comfort.  
He gets up from his chair and kneels in front of her on one knee.  
"Abigail, I've told you this many times. You are not responsible for anything that happened. You were a victim. And you did what you needed to stay alive. It's what makes you a strong person. Even if you do think you are weak inside." He gives her a small smile.  
"You think I'm a strong person?" She's staring at him, both of her hands clutching her knees. Bottom lip slightly trembling.  
"Of course I do, Abigail." He takes one of her hands and holds it in his own. And there is the spark again. A little stronger this time. He can tell from the small reaction in her face, that she too has felt something. He doesn't hint that he does though. So he just gives her hand a little squeeze before getting up. The day after all is about to begin. And maybe, just maybe, Abigail is going to a bigger asset than he thought.  
"Unfortunately, Abigail, my patients will be coming in any minute. I'll call Dr. Bloom to pick you up and when I'm through here, I'll come and get you. We can discuss this further over a nice meal. My place?" He's staring at her, almost leaking reassurance into her.  
"Sure, that sounds fine, Dr. Lecter."  
"I'll see you this evening then." He says as he picks up the phone.


	2. Thoughts And Discussions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A startling concept enters Hannibal's mind...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't seem to get these two out of my mind.

The day dragged on. One patient after the next. One diagnosis given after the next. And yes, while it was true that Dr. Lecter rather liked giving people his opinion. He found that this day was just not to his suiting. Too many interminable people passing through today. And throughout the thirty minute breaks, he found himself wondering if Abigail would appreciate Chicken Cordon Bleu or Pork Tenderloin. After his last patient, who had raved about killing her husband if she ever had the chance because he was just so inattentive to her needs, Dr. Lecter decided the pork would be more appropriate.

Gathering his things and packing up for the day, Dr. Lecter made a quick call to the hospital and asked if they could have Abigail ready in half an hour. He wanted to make sure she was ready for their evening.

The drive over wasn't very long and for some reason, Dr. Lecter was... giddy at the thought of having dinner with Abigail again. She was a rare specimen. A girl who had beaten the odds. (With his help, of course. He doubted Will would have been able to slow the bleeding with his trembling hands.) Abigail certainly was something else...

She was awaiting him in the waiting room. And Dr. Lecter noticing absolutely everything, observed that Abigail was not wearing her usual red woolen scarf. Instead she was adorning a pale blue one. He noticed how much more her blue eyes stood out now. How much more her ivory skin seemed to glow. He also noticed that Abigail was waiting for a greeting. Slightly raising her eyebrows as if questioning what he was ogling at. Dr. Lecter snapped out of it then. Clearing his throat and acknowledging her presence.

"Abigail, you look wonderful. New scarf?" He didn't want to give any of his thoughts away. She smiled a little.

"Yeah. Um, Dr. Bloom got it for me a few weeks ago. Said it looked much better than the other one. Something about it bringing out my eyes more. I thought it was silly, after all, it's not like I really go anywhere. But, I remembered it after you invited me for dinner. So, I thought, why not?" She looked down. A little ashamed at having admitted this.

"Well, it looks lovely on you." He barely caught the 'thank you' she mumbled out towards the ground. "I suppose we better get going. Dinner awaits our appetites." 

Arriving at his home, Dr. Lecter stopped her before she could open the car door.

"Please, allow me." He didn't know where the sudden cavalier in him came from, but he went with it. Stepping out of the car and walking to her side. He opened the car door and did a little bow. "Miss Hobbs. My humble abode as you already know." She smiled at him and gave a little laugh.

"Yeah, I know, Dr. Lecter." She gave him a look of curiosity. And there it was again, that... giddiness inside him. The feeling almost made him want to sweep her off her feet and carry her across the threshold as if she was his bride. Dr. Lecter started at this thought. He didn't where it had come from. It just floated into his mind. A stray...

Forgetting about it then, he opened his front door and let her inside. He took the coat she had been wearing and hung it on the rack. Dinner was what he had promised her and dinner there would be.

"Would you like to assist me or would you prefer to watch?" He questioned her. She looked at the kitchen, filled with his culinary tools and shook her head.

"Maybe I'll just watch today."

"Very well. If you would excuse me for a minute, I'm just going to put up my coat and get an apron." She smirked a little. 

"Take your time. I don't have anywhere to be in particular." He beamed inside. Outside his lips only upturned slightly. Leaving and coming back approximately 37 seconds later, he found Abigail with one leg off the stool she had been sitting on.

"Darn, you caught me. Guess I can't leave now, huh?" This time, his smile was a bit more genuine. 

"I appreciate your humor." She blushed at his words, just enough for him to notice.

"So," She said, changing the subject. "What's on the menu tonight?"

"Tonight, there is going to be Pork Tenderloin with Dijon Marsala Sauce with a side of Prosciutto Wrapped Asparagus." He looked at her and she grinned.

"Well, whatever it is, it sounds delicious." 

"As it will be." Preparing the ingredients and laying them before him, she started small talk. The kind of small talk you make when you're hoping to flirt with somebody, he noticed. But he didn't say anything. They chatted about where his cooking skills had come from and how many countries he had been too. Where he had gone to school and why he wanted to become a doctor. Pretty soon, Dr. Lecter could feel the direction the conversation was going. Family. So, he began asking her questions. What subjects she most prone to in high school and how her grades had been. If she ever thought of going to college and what for, for that matter. 

She responded to his questions. Giving insight to Dr. Lecter that made her that much clearer to him. Whether she knew it or not. He was still evaluating her. Abigail was tough. She wasn't as fragile as everyone made her out to be. Oh sure, she had her breaking point. But so did most everybody. He supposed with a few sessions with him and she'd tougher inside than she was right now. 

Forty-five minutes later and their dinner was ready. Dr. Lecter had Abigail wait at the table while he served. They didn't do much talking during. A few words here and there from Abigail that the food was, in fact, delicious. And before both of them knew it. The dinner was done. The dishes were drying and it was time to take Abigail back to the hospital.

"You know," Abigail said on the drive back. "We didn't really get around to talking about... my dad and stuff. I thought this was supposed to be a doctor visit?" 

"Oh, it still was. Just in a different way than you're used to. Sometimes, counseling a person doesn't always mean sitting down and discussing all the bad things in life. Discussing the good moments can help, believe or not." 

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I do actually feel happier than I've been in the past few days." He glanced over and smiled at her.

"See, it's working already."

They arrived at the hospital a few minutes later and Abigail being the oh so brilliant comedian that she was said,

"So, can I open the door this time or..." But Dr. Lecter interrupted.

"No, no, I'll get it." For the second time that evening, he opened the door for her. Walking her to the front steps of the hospital.

"Well," Abigail begin. "I guess this where we say good night. It was nice having dinner with you. And also getting away from the hospital again."

"And it was nice having you over, Abigail. Perhaps we can do this again?" She giggled at him. "What's so funny?"

"Oh, nothing, it's just for a minute there it sounded like..." Her brows furrowed and she trailed off. "Anyway, good night Dr. Lecter." As she turned to go Dr. Lecter called after her.

"Oh, and Abigail?" He said as he reached for the hand that wasn't holding the door. "Please call me Hannibal." He leaned down then. Kissing her hand as a knight would do after bringing a lady back. He looked up and she was smiling at him.


	3. Reciprocation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abigail's reaction after Hannibal said good night...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, Abigail's perspective wasn't supposed to be this long, but my imagination ran away from me in the grand scheme of things. Also, sadly, no Hannibal. Just Dr. Bloom. He comes back next chapter though.

Abigail was lying on her bed. Her thoughts running here and there about what had just happened. She replayed it for what seemed like a thousand times. 

Dr. Lecter, (Hannibal now, she reminded herself) telling her he'd like to have dinner again sometime. Him grabbing her hand and then bowing down to kiss it. She checked her hand now. To make sure it was still intact. That his kiss hadn't just burnt right through her skin with how hot her hand had been afterward.

No, she thought, Hannibal was just being a gentlemen. That was who he was. That's why she felt so safe around him. 

Turning over now and laying on her side to look out her window, she decided it was nothing. And even if it was... It could never really be. She was far too young and Hannibal was just... Just something that would always be out of her reach. Mentally, emotionally and most of all physically.

No, better to just think of him as her father-figure. Because that's who he was now. And every time he spoke to her or invited her over, it was only because he was looking out for her well-being. Nothing weird about that.

Abigail closed her eyes. She probably wouldn't see him for another week anyway. And with that thought, she settled into a dreamless sleep.

***

Her days at the hospital were passing slowly. Day in and day out, all there was were hospital walls, hospital food, hospital people and hospital therapy. Needless to say, she hated it. And on the third day after Hannibal's visit, she thought back on he said. To live what she wanted. Well, what she wanted was to get out of this place already. To see the outside everyday. But seeing as how that wouldn't be for quite awhile, she'd have to put up with the environment here.

Hannibal had said to make friends. To interact and seek out the good things. That's just what she'd do then. So, walking into the common area, she sat in a chair and scoped out her surroundings.

There was an old man sitting in the corner, who she knew had murdered his own daughter, but it was because his dementia had gotten the best of him. Best to stay away from him.

A woman, mid-forties maybe, sitting at a table and playing chess all by herself. Abigail couldn't remember exactly why she was there, but she did know it something to do with her dogs. Nope, too close to Will. Dogs weren't really her thing after all.

A boy and a girl were seated at another table. Playing a game of cards and laughing every once in awhile. They seemed pre-occupied with themselves already. She didn't want to bother them and seem like a third wheel.

And finally, a girl. She looked a couple years older than Abigail and was quietly combing her fingers through her hair. She seemed innocent enough. So Abigail, taking the initiative, walked over to her and sat in the seat beside her.

"Hey, um, my name's Abigail. What's yours?" She hoped this girl wouldn't lash out or anything. That was the last thing she needed.

The girl stared at her. With wide, doe-like eyes unlike her own. And for one strange second, Abigail thought the girl was going to start screaming. But instead, only words.

"My name?" The girl asked curiously.

"Yeah, you know. The thing your parents gave you when you born, the thing that makes you respond to people when they talk to you. That thing." Abigail was only answered with another stare. "That's ok I guess, I can just sit here and talk until you feel comfortable." And as Abigail opened up her mouth to speak, the girl finally talked.

"Michelle. My name is Michelle." And with that Michelle's hands left her hair and settled in her lap. "I'm here because I tried to kill myself."

Well she's very blunt, Abigail thought. And then nodded her head, acknowledging her statement. "You wanna talk about it?"

Michelle, still a tad bit shy, gave a nervous smile. "I guess that's part of the reason why I'm here. I was an introvert. Never talked to anybody and nobody ever talked to me. So, a month after I graduated, I tried to off myself. Thought no one would miss me." Yup, Abigail thought, definitely not holding back anything.

"So, did someone find you? Or did your... method not work?" She wondered for a moment if perhaps that may have been too forward, but was taken aback by the girl's answer.

"No, I walked down the stairs holding a gun, told my mom good-bye and before I could fire the shot, my dad dove in and knocked away the gun. And that's how I ended up here." She sure has a flair for the dramatic, she thought. "And what about you?" But before Abigail could answer, the nurse calling her from the doorway to the room. Alana Bloom was here to see her.

"Hey, I gotta go, doctor visit. But, maybe we can talk about this over lunch tomorrow?" Michelle smiled at her.

"Sure, I'd love that. Good luck with your doctor." Abigail grinned.

"Thanks. See you." And went to join Dr. Bloom in her room.

***

Dr. Alana Bloom was sitting patiently on a chair. Waiting for Abigail to join her.

"Hello. How are you today, Abigail?" The ever watchful doctor following Abigail with her eyes as she sat down. 

"Things are moving along, I guess. I think I actually made some sort of friend. If that's possible here." Alana smiled.

"I'm glad to hear that and yes, it is possible to make friends. It's healthy for someone in your situation." And just what, in God's name was that supposed to mean? Abigail wondered. She kept her face straight though. "But actually, I came here for a different reason. Dr. Lecter has requested your presence at another dinner. He asked me to ask you because he's rather busy right now. Helping on a case, I think." Abigail's face wanted to light up, but she kept it to a small smile.

"Really? Um, well, if you think it's a good idea... I mean, sure. You can tell him I said yes. Will anybody else be there?" Abigail was hoping for a no.

"I believe Will is also going to be there. He invited me, but I declined. Dinners aren't really my thing." Dammit.

"Oh. That's too bad. Did he happen to say when?"

"This Saturday. Oh and also, Will is going to be picking you up this time. Something about your birthday?" Birthday? Wait, what?

"Wait, what's today's date?" She had lost track of the dates while she had been in the hospital.

"September 13th I believe." Abigail did the math and realized that Saturday was her birthday after all. Hannibal the cheeky... "Anyway, moving on."

Abigail half listened to what Dr. Bloom was saying. Her mind running over the fact that Hannibal had been considerate enough to do something. No, maybe this was coincidence. Maybe it was Will that had suggested it. After all, she was sure Hannibal was busy with much more pressing matters. Yes, it probably was Will. Oh, well. Gotta roll with what life throws you.

By the time she knew it, the time had flown. Dr. Bloom was gone and she was lying on her bed staring at the ceiling. Wondering what was going to become of her and Hannibal's relationship. 

She sighed. "Probably nothing." She concluded out loud. All that was left, was to wait for Saturday. Hannibal and his dinner parties...


	4. A Birthday Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal gets a little soft. Abigail feels her heart flutter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will's mind is one of complexity to me. I tried writing in his character, but it just didn't work. I didn't want to warp his profile so I decided it was best if I just didn't write from his perspective.

Will has indeed picked Abigail up for the dinner party. It is quite uncomfortable riding next to him in silence. She wants to ask him how his day went, anything really. Not just sit here and stare out the window. She finally decides on the question that been on her mind the past few days. Had it been him or Hannibal?

"So, was it you that came up with the idea? The birthday thing, I mean." She stares at Will to try and read his facial expression. The only thing he gives away is his shock. Not much on his face to work with, but she can tell just the same.

"No, actually. It sounds horrible to say, but I had no idea when your birthday was. Hannibal was the one who brought it up when we were... talking. I thought it was brilliant so I agreed." This genuinely surprises her. She has thought that maybe only Will and his overly protective father phase could have come up with a such an idea.

"Oh," she says, not really knowing how to respond to Will now. "Well, that was... nice of him, I suppose."

"Yeah, Dr. Lecter sure is a nice guy." The rest of the short ride is in silence. There is nothing really to talk about and Abigail really doesn't feel like bringing up Hannibal again. Not in front of Will at least.

***

Hannibal's house looks the same as always. Like it belongs in the high class end of town... In the early 70s. Abigail doesn't particularly mind though. She thinks it suits his personality. Ancient, but still kicking. 

She follows Will to the front door and stands besides him as he knocks. Hannibal opens the door, greeting both of them.

"Will. Abigail." One corner of his mouth turns up a little at her name and for a moment, the world stops. The moment doesn't last long. Abigail is drawn back to reality by Hannibal gesturing them inside. 

The house is comfortably warm. Abigail doesn't notice anything different due to the circumstances and is relieved. Embarrassment wouldn't have served her well.

She and Will are immediately shown to the dining room, where she notices, again, nothing different. A small bit of her is disappointed. She brushes it off though. Hannibal is, of course, unpredictable and there is still plenty of evening left.

Will tries making small talk with her while Hannibal is in the kitchen gathering the plates. She doesn't want to make Will feel bad, so she acts politely.

"So Abigail, how does it feel to finally be 18?"

"Not so much different. I don't feel any more grown up than I did yesterday."

"Good. That's good. Any plans now that you're of age?" For a second, a tall, dark and handsome man flashes through her mind, but she brushes past it.

"Not really. Just to keep on living my life, I guess." Will nods his head at this and things go quiet. It doesn't last long though. Hannibal sweeps through the door with their dinner and for a few seconds as Abigail watches Will smile at Hannibal for setting down his plate and Hannibal setting down hers in front of her, she feels... Well, she doesn't know what she feels. Something between happiness and a weird sense of family.

Dinner commences without too many words. Everybody is eating. And she starts thinking about what will happen after this. Will she possibly be able to get another hand kiss out of Hannibal? Will she have to be driven back to the hospital by Will and endure even more awkward silence? What about tonight? Should she thank Hannibal? When should thank him is more like it. Without her noticing, her mind has wandered away from her and from a distance she can hear someone calling her name. 

It's Hannibal and he's asking if she's all right. She comes back. Realizing that her fork and knife are suspended in mid-air. She looks at Hannibal and then Will. They are both staring at her with concern. 

"I'm sorry." She says as she lowers her hands until her wrists are resting on the table's edge. "I didn't realize... It's just... Um, thank you. Both of you guys. It was really nice to be able to have dinner with you two tonight." She lowers her head. Suddenly ashamed that she has embarrassed herself like this.

There isn't anything unusual after that. They finish their dinner in silence. Hannibal and Will clear the table, insisting that Abigail stay where she is. She's a little worried now. What if they're in the kitchen talking about her? That's a stupid question though. Of course they're talking about her. Probably discussing her little episode. Telling each other it's probably best that she stay in the hospital longer now.

That damned thing is doing her no good. They can't possibly agree to that. And anyway, they would have to tell Alana...

They walk through the doorway then. Will has his hands in his pockets and Hannibal carrying something in his right hand. It's a box. Silver with a white bow on top. It's relatively small, so it must be jewelry. Charm bracelet no doubt. Or one of those ridiculous promise rings fathers and mothers get their daughters sometimes. 

Hannibal sets it down in front if her and she can tell that they are both nervous. Will much more so. She can only imagine that the nervousness on Hannibal's face is all play so Will won't feel bad. She doesn't blame him.

"It's from both of us." Hannibal begins. "We thought we should get you a little something for today. Open it."

She looks at it and moves to undo the ribbon. It slides apart easily and she takes the top off the box. It is a small gold locket. Simple, nothing elaborate. The chain is thin and the locket is in the shape of a heart.

"I actually convinced Hannibal that something more simple would do." Will says from besides the other side of her. She had not noticed he had moved. "He wanted to go for something with more bang, but I told him you would like this more."

"It's lovely." She manages to squeak out. "Thank you." Not knowing what to do next, she picks up the box and hands it to Will. "Would you?" She asks shyly. She does not ask Hannibal. She does not want to embarrass herself in front if him more than she has already done.

Will takes the box timidly and sends a sharp glance towards Hannibal. With mostly steady hands, he manages to clip the lock behind her hair. His fingers flutter nervously near her neck and then dance away back to his pockets.

"What do you think?" Hannibal inquires. He is staring at her intensely. Not blinking, just staring. 

"I think maybe, this is the best gift I've received in long time." There is an odd silence after that before Will breaks it.

"Well, I should be getting home now. The dogs will be wondering where I am." She starts to get up, guessing that it is Will that be taking her home, but Hannibal stops her. 

"Actually, Abigail, you'll be staying here tonight. I've arranged everything with Alana and the hospital and it's all fine. That is, if you would like to stay?" The prospect is exciting for her. A chance to stay here. With Hannibal. Alone. Just the two of them.

"Yeah, that's absolutely fine." Hannibal smiles at her.

"Good. If you'll excuse me, I'll just see Will out and then we can get you ready for bed." She nods.

"Goodnight, Abigail." Will says before turning for the door. And without thinking about it, she goes to him and embraces him. It is not a bone-crushing hug. Just a quick one and then she pulls away.

"Goodnight Will." She smiles at both of them. Tonight was a good one. Better than anything that happened at the hospital. Or before that even.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do realize it's been a month since I've updated. The motivation suddenly left me and I feel like it's coming back so we'll see how this goes from now on.  
> Also, this is what Abigail's locket looked like: C:\Users\Jake\Pictures\Random\Abigail's locket.jpg


	5. A Lesson In Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tea and a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok people. Without further ado, here it is. I'll explain everything in the end notes. Enjoy.

It doesn't take Hannibal too long before he is back and then there is an awkward silence between them. Abigail is standing beside the dining room table nervously fidgeting, wondering what in the world comes next.

"Thank you again for all of this, Hannibal. It really was nice of you." 

"Of course," he replies. "I couldn't have passed the opportunity. You've become a young lady now. Who better to spend the day with than Will and I?" 

"Yes, well..." Her head falls down and she finds herself staring at the necklace. "The locket was really nice, by the way. Nothing too over the top. Just plain and simple. I guess Will had the right idea. I mean, not that whatever you had in mind wasn't nice also. But, simple is okay and I..." Her words are flustered at this point. It's hard to try and disguise her feelings with Hannibal. But, like always, he rescues the day. 

"I understand. Now, how about some tea before bed? I find a cup always helps before drifting off." He's making his way to the kitchen now. 

"Tea sounds great. Yeah, tea." Dammit, Abigail, pull yourself together.

Within the time it takes to cross to the kitchen and sit on a stool, Abigail has regained her composure. Convincing herself to act normal for once.

She's watching him make the tea now. Following his hands as they fill a kettle with water and set it on his very expensive stove. Watching his back as he reaches in a cupboard for tea leaves and then again as he brings out two cups and saucers. He's very formal. That's another thing she likes about him. He is such a gentlemen.

She realizes she sounds ridiculous though and banishes the thought. She isn't some twelve year-old girl obsessing over a band member. No, she's 18. Time to grow up just a little if she can help it. So she sits up a little straighter and decides on trying to talk to him.

"You should know I actually made a friend at the hospital."

"Did you now?" Hannibal asks her back.

"Yeah. I met her about a week ago and we've been talking since. She's pretty nice, nothing crazy, considering where I met her. She seems like a promising friend."

"Friends are always promising." Is his answer.

A beat of silence.

"Is Will Graham your friend?" The question is out before she can stop herself. Damn her curious nature, but it's too late to take it back now.

Hannibal looks up at her from putting the tea leaves into the pot and stares at her, no emotion on his face, and considers the question.

"I consider Will Graham, very much, a friend. I would hope he feels the same about me." And back to his tea leaves.

Now is her chance, while the subject is still in the air. Should she? And what if he rejects her and sends her home? What then?

She props her chin in her hand and studies the water in the teapot. The surface lightly bubbling now. In a few minutes, the tea will be done and her chance will have disappeared into the atmosphere. So, gathering her nerves now and leaning on her arms she asks him.

"Am I your friend?" She stares at him, hoping he takes somewhat of a hint. She tries to read him. Searches his eyes for a glimmer of something. Anger, compassion, empathy... Anything, but there is nothing. Only as much emotion of a boulder. A very nice boulder, but a boulder just the same.

***

Hannibal stares back at Abigail, not showing his surprise at the question. Not showing anything.

He considers the question lightly. Of course she is a friend. In Hannibal's dictionary, you don't just bury a body together and then move on. You are bonded. But she is also somewhat of a daughter to him. He nurtured her, in his own way. She is his. So, yes, very much a friend.

He isn't stupid though, far from it. He knows what she is really asking. But she is young and just a tad naïve, only just 18, so he will not lead her. And for a moment, the memory of the skin of her hand comes back to his lips and he is tempted to maybe lead her only a little until he shakes the thought away.

***

Abigail is about to give up. Ask another question and move on. But Hannibal answers in the nick of time.

"You are a friend. I've thought you one for some time now. We're two people braving a storm together, Abigail." Hannibal is pouring the tea into cups now. Walking around the island and setting her cup down in front of her.

"No mushrooms this time, I give my word." He says, smiling slightly.

Abigail's cheeks redden only just. Enough for Hannibal to catch the color and for her to feel the sudden warmth on her face.

To distract herself, she picks up the cup of tea and takes a sip. It's rich. The liquid swirling with flavor. And for a moment the tea takes her away. To a place where maybe her father had never screwed things up for her and her mother and her future. But wait, that's not right, if the accident hadn't happened, she wouldn't have met Hannibal. And where would she be without him? Probably still somewhere at the bottom. No, Hannibal had been good for her. In a way she couldn't comprehend.

She looks up now, staring at Hannibal taking his own sip of tea from his cup. Judging from how he answered her question, she knows he will never instigate what she is feeling. If anything, he will push it back. Ignore it and wait it out. And if that's the case, then maybe she will back off. Maybe this was all a mistake. Her birthday dinner was nice, but that's all it was. Nice. Nothing more.

So, making up her mind and taking her last sip of tea. She retreats back inside her mind.

"You were right," She says, setting down her cup and addressing Hannibal. "A cup of tea is nice before bed."

Hannibal nods in agreement. "I've found it helps calms the mind from the days stress."

"Extremely calming," she says. "I'm afraid I'm ready to go to sleep right now."

A small laugh from Hannibal which she ignores.

"I suppose I should show you to your room then." He gets up from his seat across from her and proceeds to place both their cups in the sink. "This way." He says, leading her out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

His house is magnificent looking, she thinks. All the décor perfectly placed and color contrasts blending finely. She wants to ask him if he's ever thought about interior decorating, but holds her tongue because she thinks she's asked one too many questions this evening.

Her room is only a short trip down the hall. He opens the door for her, but that's as far as he goes.

"You'll find some suitable bedclothes waiting on the bed for you. I took the liberty of buying something appropriate."

"Well, thank you... Very much. The dinner was lovely and so was seeing Will." She clears her throat not knowing what to say next. "Good night, I guess." Before he can make another move like the one when he dropped her off at the hospital, she moves for the door to swing it open.

"Abigail..." Hannibal says, stopping her in her tracks.

"Yes?" She asks him, turning around, one hand resting on the door frame and the other clutching the door knob for dear life.

***

He considers for a moment. His actions will have consequences. Dire ones if he is not careful. But he decides that maybe, just maybe, this isn't a bad idea. Maybe...

***

Abigail is waiting, wondering what in the world could come next.

"Good night." Hannibal says at last.

Abigail lets go of a small breath she has been holding. Relief floods through her. But it doesn't last long.

Hannibal is leaning towards her and for a moment she isn't sure what to do or how to respond. So she settles for standing still as Hannibal moves closer.

And before she knows it, his lips are against her cheek. And her cheek is on fire. The skin there in flames. And then it is gone. And then she is opening her eyes. She doesn't even remember closing them. Hannibal is gone. Descended down the stairs already. And my God, her heart is going a thousand miles per hour.

***

Hannibal is in the kitchen now. Running a wash cloth over the teacups in the sink. Making sure it is spotless before putting it aside so he can dry it.

He's thinking about the coolness of Abigail's cheek. And the way he could feel the blood rush from the touch of his lips.

He doesn't regret it. In fact, he rather enjoyed it. So much so that he's storing the memory away in his Mind Palace. Away with the good memories of Mischa and days spent with his uncle.

There is a light feathery feeling inside of him. One he didn't think could be achieved within himself anymore.

Hannibal wonders just how deep in a commitment this cheek kiss has gotten him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here's the story.  
> My internet has been gone for about three weeks, maybe a month. I forget.  
> But while it was away, I knew that everybody was expecting another chapter. So, I started writing it.  
> It kind of ran away with itself, but I don't mind.  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed.  
> Feedback is always nice.  
> Sincerely, Me.


	6. Asleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts and dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's three in the morning and I should be sleeping because I have work tomorrow, but I'm not. Instead I'm up. Writing this short, but much needed chapter on my part.

Abigail finally gets up from her sitting position against the back of door. It has taken a full two minutes for her heart rate to completely return to normal. Her mind fluttering back to the moment of contact. Hannibal's lips sparking much more interest this time than when he had pecked her hand with them.

There is no way that this memory will ever go away this time. No way.

She straightens now. Walking over to the bed where her night clothes are laying.

She is half expecting some Victorian nightgown. Something with a frilly collar that goes down to her ankles. But it isn't. It's a simple two piece blue pyjama set. They don't even look that expensive.

She peels her clothes off, one piece at a time. Folding them up and putting them on a chair beside the bed. She pulls on the pyjamas after that. The blue tone standing out next to her pale complexion. They fit perfectly actually. The sleeves to the shirt and the legs to the pants coming to rest evenly on her wrists and ankles.

She heads over to the bathroom next and tidies up a bit before staring at herself in the mirror there. She's looking particularly at her left cheek. Searching the skin to see if there's a visual mark. Something to signify that Hannibal kissed her. She runs her fingers over it now. Recalling the way his lips met her cheek perfectly. And a pleasant shudder runs through her.

She turns off the lights now. Making her way to the bed in the darkness and slipping under the cool covers and settling in. Her mind only just starting to slow down.

She stares at the ceiling for a few seconds before closing her eyes. Her head resting on the pillow. Her mind with thoughts only of Hannibal. And then, she's asleep.

***

Hannibal has finished drying the last tea cup and is storing them away in the cupboard where they belong when he comes to a startling conclusion.

He has feelings for Abigail.

It's as simple as that. Nothing dramatic. No sudden need for a declaration of love. No butterflies flying around in his abdomen. Nothing. Just a thought. A thought of Abigail standing in the doorway and instead of him aiming for her cheek, he's aiming for her mouth. His lips against hers.

The only thing that startles him is that he doesn't know why. Why Abigail? Why now? Why even these feelings in the first place? He's never given thought to spending any of his free time with anyone else but himself. The single life suits him just fine. He's never needed anybody before. So why?

These questions disturb Hannibal. So much so that he's sitting on a kitchen stool now, contemplating everything.

Unconsciously, he's gripping the drying cloth in his practised hands. Squeezing and then releasing rhythmically. Almost as if he is keeping time by doing it.

Nothing productive is coming across his mind however and so he decides that maybe bed would best. He heads off, up the stairs and to the right. Exactly two hall lengths away from the bedroom that Abigail is now sleeping in.

He's in his bedroom now. Crossing the floor to his wardrobe where his bed clothes are. He puts everything he's wearing away meticulously of course. Storing everything properly for cleaning later.

He pulls on his bottoms and then shrugs into his night shirt, buttoning each button and sighing only a little. He brushes his teeth after that. And then walks to his bed.

He sits on the edge. Again thinking of Abigail and that cheek kiss. Thinking what if.

What if in the morning Abigail didn't want to talk to him? What if their friendship that they had was ruined by his actions? What if?

He lays back in bed now. His head resting on the cool pillows. Thoughts only of Abigail. He stares at the ceiling for a few seconds. And then his eyes are closing of their own accord and he is asleep.

***

_Hannibal's home is quiet. Both it's current patrons deep in sleep. The only noise is the soft tick of the clock in the sitting room and the low hum of the refrigerator keeping it's contents cold._

_Abigail turns over in her bed once. Her brow furrowing as she dreams of Hannibal and only him._

_Hannibal's head tilts slightly to the right. His dreams revolving around his actions earlier in the evening._

_They both yearn for each other, even though it will take them a couple of days to figure it out._

_Actions, as they say, speak louder than words._

_A car passes by outside and Hannibal's dreams turn to Mischa. Her soft smile and her mouth opening and her saying in her small voice, "'Annibal."_

_Her small hand pats his cheek. She smiles. She would want him to be happy._

_Hannibal will remember nothing in the morning, but for now, his dreams are contented._


	7. Daydreaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, here you go.

Morning has come. The sun starting to peek out from the horizon.

Eggs and sausage are sizzling in Hannibal's kitchen. The aroma wafting through the air.

Abigail's still sleepy eyes open. Taking in her surroundings. The curtains mostly closed against the morning light. She sits up. Rubbing her eyes and yawning. Last night's sleep was actually a good one. She remembers she dreamed, but she can't remember exactly what about. All she can recall is this warm fuzzy feeling.

It hits her when she's washing her face in the bathroom. Her hands gripping the sink bowl slightly. Hannibal kissed her cheek last night. He kissed her. Deliberately. And on purpose. It was no accident. Because accidents don't happen with Hannibal. Plans happen. Ones that are thought out and calculated precisely. She knows this. Knows the fact like the ridges on her scar. Knows he would almost never do anything without thinking about it first.

It scares her. In a good way of course.

She feels the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and a shiver run down her spine. Immediately, she starts grooming herself. Pulling on her jeans and light sweater. Running back to the bathroom mirror and flattening her hair from sleep. And then running back and yanking on her boots.

Everything feels rushed. Yet at the same time, the minutes click by slowly. She finally finishes. Taking a seat on the bedside chair and contemplating what to do when she goes downstairs.

Should she greet him? How should she greet him? A smile? A hello? Should she approach him? Make some sort of friendly gesture? Or should she sit down right away? Let him have the first move?

Everything is so confusing. She's never done anything like this before. Sure, there were movie dates with boys and a school dance or two, but this is different. This is Hannibal. He is in no way inexperienced. It's as if there's not one problem he can't solve.

So why not let him have the first move?

***

Abigail slowly walks through the kitchen opening. Peering at Hannibal's back as he cooks breakfast.

"Good morning, Abigail." Hannibal says while he squeezes some oranges into a pitcher. His voice is calm. Each word carefully measured.

She has to clear her throat before she answers.

"Good morning, Dr. Lecter." She decides to play it safe. Using his last name to address him. While what she really wants is to use his first name. Whisper 'Hannibal' in his ear as she grips his...

She blinks. Mentally shakes the image out of her head and moves a few steps closer.

"Sausage and..." She questions.

"Eggs, scrambled. Protein is good in the morning."

She nods and takes a seat on a kitchen stool. Nervously putting her hands in her lap and rubbing her left thumb knuckle.

"I thought you should have one last good meal before I drive you back to the hospital." Hannibal continues while tending to his eggs on the stove top.

"Thank you." Abigail lets out. She's finding it gradually harder to speak in his presence. Last nights events playing over and over like a scratch on a record.

"I trust you had a good sleep." Hannibal asks as he sets plates down and portions out the meal.

"Fantastic actually. Not one nightmare." She smiles at him. And after a few seconds. "It probably had something to do with the tea last night." She says as she looks down at the tiled counter top.

He smiles at her as he sets down her plate in front of her. For a moment she's confused. This isn't the dining room. Why...

"I thought something casual might work better this morning." He tells her, almost like reading her thoughts. She actually wouldn't be surprised if he could. She half consciously sends a question into the air and is disappointed when it hangs unanswered.

Hannibal sets down her fork beside her plate and his gesture reads, 'Dig in'.

They sit, eating quietly for a couple of minutes. The only sound, steel clashing with porcelain every so often. Abigail is eating the best she can. Trying not to show that what she really wants to do is just throw down the fork and grab him from across the island they're sitting at. But she can't.

***

Hannibal thinks he could get used to this. Him and Abigail having breakfast like this almost everyday. But instead of silence, there would be talking. Maybe even laughter at a few shared jokes.

It's unnerving for Hannibal, thinking about all this. Thinking about the future like it has a chance. He has never done this. He lives in the moment. Never wasting a minute. Cutting down people who have gotten in his way of enjoying life to it's fullest. But maybe...

***

It takes them both fifteen minutes to finish their breakfast. In that time, Abigail has to clench her thigh twice to prevent herself from saying anything aloud to Hannibal about last night. She wants to leave it alone, move on with her life and go back to the hospital and just curl up on the bed.

Hannibal clears away the plates like a gentleman and after he begins washing them, Abigail falls into step behind him to start drying. It's become automatic. Just the two of them, washing and drying. 

***

She's in the middle of the second glass when Hannibal begins speaking.

"I do hope I wasn't being too forward last night." He says as he washes suds away from a fork.

Abigail freezes. Has to set the glass down slowly before she drops it and shatters his precious breakfast ware.

"I don't know what you mean." She replies after a beat. Hoping for some strange reason that he'll just drop it.

"I meant to just say good night. Acting on impulses is never a good habit." He continues on. "Forgive me if I made you uncomfortable."

She runs her cloth over a stray water droplet and whispers, "You'd never make me uncomfortable." She turns to look at him. Puts her hands on the counter behind her and stares at his sharply angled face. Hannibal moves closer, she can count the spotted pattern on his tie. His hand reaches out for her...

***

"Abigail? Are you ready to go now?" Hannibal is pulling her out of her daze. All the dishes are dried. She didn't even realize it. Her daydream had carried her away from reality.

"Oh, um, yes." Her tongue fumbles, trying to catch up with the present.

***

They're in the car a minute later. Hannibal focused on the road, Abigail counting how many trees are completely without leaves.

They arrive at the hospital safe and sound. Hannibal steps out of the car and goes to open her door.

They both walk side by side to the doors where Hannibal opens those too and let's Abigail in first before going in himself and walking to the nurses station. He probably has to sign her back in or something. It usually happens that way with a patient and an overnight stay.

Abigail wants to follow him. Stop him before he gets there and just tell him good bye and thanks for the lovely night and morning. Maybe get something else out of it too, but she won't. Instead she stares at the back of his coat. Gives him one good last glance before disappearing to her room. Right now, she just wants to be alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I finally published another chapter. They come out like Sherlock episodes, but considering that this the longest running story on my personal record, I'd consider this pretty good. Stay tuned for more, folks.


	8. Running

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abigail takes a leap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honor of the new season approaching...

Abigail isn't feeling well. Everybody thinks she has the flu because she doesn't leave her room often and only comes out for dinner. But they're wrong. Oh she's sick, just not how everybody thinks.

Abigail is sick in love.

It may sound cliché, but it's the only explanation. Only two days have passed and Abigail feels like a whole year has flown by. Like she spent twelve months just remembering Hannibal's face. Tracing the details of his cheekbones and the way his lips moved when he talked. That cheeky smirk he gave when he said something even remotely intelligent. His hair, light brown in the light and dark gray in the shadows.

She loved him. To the ends of the earth and to the depths of the sea. To Europe and back. All the way to the moon and then even more to Jupiter. She loved him. She loved him like a heart beating on a sunny day. Like a cat purring after getting scratched on the chin. Like a dog getting a belly rub. Like an audience clapping at the end of a good performance. Like a mother holding her baby for the first time. She loved him. It was simple and complicated at the same time. Like a negative and positive side of a magnet. Like a bee flying even though Science says no. Like Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. She loved him.

She breathed then. Looking at the clock and expecting to see a few hours gone by, but instead only a few minutes. She sighed. She was hopeless. Hopelessly in love with someone who couldn't return the feelings. And she didn't care. Because knowing Hannibal was enough. Just knowing that she could remember his laugh in her mind was enough. It didn't really matter that he didn't feel the same. All that mattered was that...

A knock on her door.

She slowly sat up. Wondering who in the world could be knocking on her door when everyone else should be at lunch.

"Abigail?"

A girl. 

"Abigail, please come out. Everyone is worried about you."

Ah, Michelle. She wasn't any harm.

"Abigail, I swear to Poseidon if you don't open the door, I will break it down and the nurses will have to drag me away."

Well, almost. She sighed. Getting up from the bed and crossing to the door.

"Michelle?" She said as she heard a relieved sigh from the other side.

"Oh, thank Hera. Come on, open the door and spill the beans."

Abigail opened the door and Michelle squeezed through, stopping when she saw Abigail's face.

"Oh."

"Is it that bad?"

"Oh yeah. Aphrodite has got you good. So, who's the lucky guy?" She said as she plopped down on Abigail's bed.

Abigail was silent. What was she supposed to tell her? That she was in love with the guy that had helped save her life and then also helped rehabilitate her back to almost normal? That he had cooked breakfast for her and invited her to dinner for her birthday? And kissed her cheek and made her feel absolutely incredible?

So she started talking. She spilled everything to the girl who had tried to go out with a bang. Who was absolutely obsessed with Greek mythology. Who could talk a million miles an hour if Abigail gave her the chance.

She told her about the first time. About coming back to the hospital and Hannibal bending down and kissing her hand. And then worrying he wouldn't visit again and then being absolutely wrong and Hannibal inviting her to dinner for her birthday. And sleeping there for the night and Hannibal kissing her cheek goodnight. All the feelings that she had in her gut from just the thought of him. Everything. Even that she knew he probably didn't feel anything back, but that was okay.

And finally, she was done. Heaving a big sigh and sitting next to Michelle on the bed, hanging her head and trying to keep all the tears in. She didn't even know why she wanted to cry. She just did.

Michelle was silent for a while. Abigail focused on the sound of her breathing so she could control her emotions and then finally, Michelle spoke.

"You've got to tell him how you feel."

"What? No, I..."

"Listen," Michelle said as she grabbed Abigail's shoulders and swung her around to face her. "You sound like got something good here. And maybe it is just nothing but teenage hormones, but you have to find out. Otherwise, you'll be wondering your whole life, what if? What if he was really The One? What if there was something between us and I was just too scared to find out? You have to ask these questions Abigail. Question life. Question love. Everything. Sure, it isn't going to be easy. And maybe he will reject you, but you're eighteen. You've got your whole life ahead of you. To find somebody else and live happy."

"I don't want anyone else Michelle." Abigail whispered back.

"Then go get your man." Michelle whispered back.

And suddenly, Abigail knew. She knew that if she was ever going to have a chance, she would have to do something about it. Hannibal would never initiate anything because he'd be afraid of the consequences for Abigail. But she wasn't afraid. Not any more. She'd find him. Explain everything. And hopefully, he'd feel the same.

"Michelle, thank you." She said as she practically flew off the bed and ran for her scarf and coat. Throwing open the window and squeezing through. She'd have to hurry if she wanted to make it back before dinner. "I owe you Michelle!" She yelled as she set off the through the back forest.

Michelle sighed. Young love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look, an update. Sorry for so long. Hope you enjoy. Also, be expecting another part really soon because this one was really short in my opinion.


	9. Confessions And Embraces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The big moment...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! Extreme Fluff!

Hannibal was in his office, doing some late night paperwork when he noticed a presence in the room.

"Abigail?" He said as she stepped out from the shadows and into the dim lighting.

She was breathing heavy, he could tell. As if she had run here.

"Abigail? Is something wrong?"

"No, Dr. Lecter. I just..." She was silent for a few seconds as her breath finally caught up with her. "I just really needed to talk to you."

"You could have called and I would have seen you in the morning. You know you're not supposed to run away from the hospital."

"I know and I'm sorry, but this couldn't wait." She confessed as she moved a few steps closer to him. "Would you mind sitting down? And please, do me a favor and try not to say anything. Not until I'm done at least. And I promise, that whenever I am done talking, I will accept any action you deem appropriate. Even if that means never talking to you again."

Hannibal seemed skeptical only for a moment before he settled into his chair and said, "Very well."

Abigail nodded and unwound her scarf, placing it on the back of the other chair, but left her coat on.

"I never meant for any of it to happen." She started. "I tried to stop. Tried to convince myself that it wasn't worth it, that I was better off if I avoided the situation and just continued on my life in the hospital. It didn't exactly happen that way though." She stopped, contemplating her next words. "It still happened of course. For the second time in my life, I found my life in your hands." She looked to him now. His posture was perfect of course, too perfect even. She couldn't read anything. Negative or positive. She couldn't decide if that was a bad thing or a good thing. She swallowed and moved on. "I... I find myself in a compromising situation now. Tell you what I'm feeling or live a lie and I refuse to go on without acknowledging the truth and the truth is..." She stopped suddenly, the fear of what she was doing catching up with her now. She stared at him again, watching the way the shadow played across his face.

***

Hannibal was still. His muscles had stopped working almost as soon as Abigail started talking. He had been too busy trying to keep his heart rate at a normal pace.

He understood just what she was trying say. Just how far deeply she had fallen for him. And he was aching.

Aching to tell her that he felt the same. That he would do anything for her in a heart beat. That she was the first person that stirred something inside himself.

***

Abigail saw Hannibal getting up and for a horrid moment, she thought he was going to walk out. But he didn't. He crossed the room and stood in front of her. His hands in his pockets and his eyes taking in every inch of her face.

***

Hannibal drew one hand from his pocket and gently placed it on her cheek. Feeling just how perfect her head cradled in his palm. He pulled her to him then, bringing her face to his chest and resting his hand on her lower back.

He felt safe standing there. Feeling her steady breaths match his own. He buried his face into the top of her head and breathed her in, mesmerized by her.

"Hannibal..." He heard Abigail start.

"Shhh. It's just us right now. There are no need for words, Abigail. You and I both know what this means. Just be here with me. Only me."

Abigail stood there. Her face resting on his suit and her nose filled with him. She would remember this for a long time, that was for sure. Just the two of them standing there, wondering what was on the other side.

***

It felt like an eternity when he finally spoke.

"Abigail. I've got to take you back. They might miss you."

"You could call them." She said lightly. "Tell them I ran away again and that you're keeping me for over night observation. They all think I'm ill anyway."

"I can't do that." He mumbled into her hair. "They would no longer trust me."

She sighed, running her fingers down the side of his suit. "You'll have to drop me off in the forest."

"Snuck out the window, did we?"

"Yes, but I got a friend to cover, so I think I'm all right. No one should really notice I was even gone at all."

"Then we should go as soon as possible." He said.

She felt cold as he pulled away, but was immediately satisfied when he took her hand in his.

***

The ride was quiet. The only upside was feeling Hannibal's hand in the fading light of the evening. She was tempted to lean on him, but restrained herself in that department.

When they got there, he held open the door as usual. She wasn't expecting anything though. Just a good-bye and a smile. But Hannibal, as per usual, surprised her.

He leaned forward. Catching the corner of her mouth and then leaning his forehead against hers.

"Until next time." He whispered.

"And how soon will that be?" She asked.

"Soon enough."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo, another update! Hooray for me being a productive member of fan fiction. And stay tuned for more!


	10. Freedom

The next four weeks flew by in utter bliss for Abigail.

She spent more time laughing with Michelle and when Hannibal came to visit on the weekends, she'd practice chess with him. He won every time of course, but she got better.

And then Alana Bloom came.

***

Dr. Bloom comes for a visit the day after Hannibal.

"Hello, Abigail." She says as she sits down in one of the chairs in the rec area.

"Hello, Dr. Bloom." Abigail says back. She's looking out the window with her hands resting in her lap.

"How are things?"

Abigail breaths in. "For the first time in my life I can say this and I've got to say, beautiful. Things are just starting to connect, you know."

Alana nods her head and says, "And does that have anything to do with the fact that Hannibal has been visiting every weekend?"

Abigail is silent for a moment. She knew things weren't going stay perfect forever. She supposes better late than never though.

"He just..." She shrugs. "He makes me feel alive." Curve the ball Abigail. "Like I've got a dad again, you know. He's the only one who visits me regularly and it just makes me feel connected again." That was a close one.

More nodding from Alana.

"And how is my visiting any different from Hannibal's?"

Crap.

"You see me because you have to Dr. Bloom. Because you're my doctor and I'm your patient. It's just the way things work." Abigail almost thinks she glimpses an expression of sadness from Alana before it is gone and she brushes it away. "Will doesn't even visit me like he used to." She hates saying this. Knowing that Will comes far on her list of people she cares about, but she needs bait for Alana.

"I see. I was just asking because I don't want you to lean too much on Hannibal. If he were to stop visiting all of a sudden, I'm afraid you would regress back into your shell."

Abigail frowns, mentally preparing herself to come out with guns blazing, accusing Alana of having such little faith in her. But she sighs. She shouldn't.

"I'm not using Hannibal as my crutch." Is all that comes out instead.

"Well, I sure hope not." Alana breathes out. "In other news, I've found you a new place."

Abigail's head whips around and she is sure that she will have a crick later. "What?"

Alana nods, reading Abigail's expression.

"I know that this place hasn't been easy on you. So, I took the liberty of finding somewhere with more freedom."

Abigail's heart beat goes up a notch.

"Freedom?"

"Yes. You'll have two days out of the week to go shopping or sight-seeing. Anything you wish. Within the other days, you can spend it at the facility. Visitors are allowed and so are over-night stays."

Over-night stays...

"Although," Alana continues. "People wanting to stay over will have to be background checked and be personally approved by me, so no random boys." Alana smiles, thinking herself witty in the moment. "And if you want to stay over somewhere else, you have to notify the staff a week beforehand. The rest of that is up to them."

Abigail is breathing rather fast now, imagining the possibilities. Freedom, finally.

She looks again to Dr. Bloom and in that moment, she feels something close to gratitude. And in a rush of emotion, she's out of her chair with her arms wrapped around Dr. Bloom's neck. 

"Thank you." Abigail whispers.

Alana is awkwardly patting her back, unsure of where to take the hug. "For what?"

"For everything." Abigail pulls away, smiling brightly. "Thank you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My, how the time has flown. Here's a short piece to keep you folks at bay. Enjoy.


	11. Excitement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A visit from Hannibal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Four months is a long time to update a fic and I am so sorry that I made you guys wait that long. But here is an update nonetheless. It might be a little short, but I just wanted to get something out there.

Hannibal was sitting across from her, his eyes focused on the checker board in front of them.

"Did Dr. Bloom tell you the news?" She asked, watching as Hannibal moved a black piece and took two of her red.

"She did indeed."

"And what's your opinion on the matter?" Abigail questioned, gently laying her foot next to his so that contact was barely established.

"I think it's an excellent idea. It's certainly better than this place, isn't it?" Hannibal said as he pressed his leg to Abigail's and she had to fight the urge to smile.

"Yes. Dr. Bloom says that I'll have a lot more freedom there. Even stay somewhere else for a couple of days if the staff approves." It was becoming difficult to talk, the only thing on Abigail's mind was Hannibal's suit pant leg against her jeans.

"In any case, I think it will benefit your health. Your move."

Abigail looked at the board, the checker pieces now swimming thanks to Hannibal's leg. She was going to lose she knew, she always did. Even with something as simple as Checkers.

She looked at the board carefully and saw no escape from the traps that Hannibal had set up. It was ridiculous really, no one should be this good at board games. But she sighed and moved a back piece. A bad move because now one of Hannibal's pieces could become more powerful.

"I don't know how you manage to do it." She said, pouting at the board. "It's like you've manipulated all the pieces to tell you where to go."

"Practice makes perfect." He retorted back as entrapped her left leg with both of his.

Abigail looked up, his grin nearly driving her to her breaking point. Was he implying...?

And with reckless abandon, she threw a question into the air.

"Would you like to see this new book I got?" It sounded completely childish, but really, what was she supposed to say?

"And our checker game?" He asked, raising his eyebrows.

She rolled her eyes at him. "We both know you win. You always do."

Hannibal chuckled and got up. "Very well, let's see this book."

She followed, her leg feeling quite cold now.

***

Her room was mostly packed. Her room décor filling two boxes. Her move was in three days after all. Clothes packing was tomorrow.

She picked up the book that was laying on her dresser. The cover was worn and a few pages were even dog-eared, but she didn't care.

"I asked Alana to get it for me. As a going-away present. I'd never had my own copy and I told her to find one that looked used because that's how mine would have looked."

"Looking for Alaska." Hannibal read. "A book about geography?"

She laughed. "No. Far from it actually. It's a book about The Great Perhaps." Abigail grazed her finger over a corner, trying to smooth the edge. "It was one of those high school books that gets assigned every year. I thought it was going to be a flop, but I was wrong. John Green completely blew my mind in the six hours it took to read it."

"It must be some book." Hannibal said as he sat next to her on the bed and gently took the book from her hands.

She watched him flip over to back to read the summary and she could almost hear the words in her head. She'd read it so often, she had memorized it.

before. Miles "Pudge" Halter's whole existence has been one big nonevent, and his obsession with famous last words has only made him crave the "Great Perhaps" (François Rabelais, poet) even more. He heads off to the sometimes crazy, possibly unstable, and anything-but-boring world of Culver Creek Boarding School, and his life becomes the opposite of safe. Because down the hall is Alaska Young. The gorgeous, clever, funny, sexy, self-destructive, screwed up, and utterly fascinating Alaska Young, who is an event unto herself. She pulls Pudge into her world, launches him into the Great Perhaps, and steals his heart.  
after. Nothing is ever the same.

"Intriguing." Hannibal deduced.

"My father didn't think so. He said it was a load of garbage. I guess it's a good thing I didn't listen to him that time."

"Instinct can take us far." He said, handing the book back to her.

There was a moment of silence. Abigail staring at the cover of the book and thinking.

"Hannibal?"

"Yes, Abigail?"

"Why are you here?"

"To see you of course."

Abigail nodded. Eyes still trained on the book.

"But why me? I mean, there's Alana. She's smart and really great looking and she's even closer in your age range. Heck, even Will looks at you sometimes like you're a God. So why me? I'm broken. I'm still learning to put myself back together using a used up bottle of super glue and I don't even know where all the pieces are yet. Why take on the burden of helping me mend myself. Why me?"

There was silence then. Both bodies breathing quietly.

And then out of the blue, Hannibal's hand was caressing her cheek, turning her head so he could look at her.

"My dear Abigail, don't you see? We chose each other."

And Hannibal leaned in and Abigail closed her eyes and bliss was on her lips. She relaxed as Hannibal moved his lips over hers slowly. Both treading murky waters.

Abigail felt something then. A shimmer of... something. So she reached up and tentatively and gently put her fingers in Hannibal's hair. Pulling him closer and sighing just so.

It was then that Hannibal pulled away however. Abigail's fingers falling away from his head.

His hand stayed on her cheek though, his thumb brushing lightly over her brow and making her shiver. He smiled at her.

"I suppose tonight would be a good night for dinner. I'm sure I can persuade the nurses to let you come back later than usual as well."

Abigail's breath hitched. Was he really implying what she thought he was implying?

"We should celebrate your move. And it won't be long before you're deemed fit for release. That should be cause enough for celebration. I'll go make the arrangements." He said as he rose and placed a kiss on her forehead before leaving her room.

Abigail reached up to feel her heart galloping away like a horse at the Kentucky Derby.

Calm, Abigail, calm.

And she was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, the next chapter, as you might have guessed, will be smut. Which I have never written before. So please try and just not judge it that much. I can't promise hot and steamy, but I will definitely try and write something with a little... shebang, I guess. *runs and hides in closet*


End file.
